


A - Z of Fandom Tropes

by Cubes_and_Destiny



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Endeavour (TV), Gilmore Girls, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, And swears a lot, Bickering, Courtly Love, Drunken confessions of love, Enemies to Friends, Episode Fix-It: s04e17 Girls in Bikinis Boys Doin' the Twist, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Growing Old Together, Hurt/Comfort, Levi ponders things, Light Angst, Pining, Post 7th book, Post Season 3, Post Season 6, Post end of series, Sansa is late 20's in this, Sharing a Bed, The rating went up mainly because of Levi swearing, fake dating au, kind of, light season 3 spoilers, physical injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cubes_and_Destiny/pseuds/Cubes_and_Destiny
Summary: Inspired by an A - Z of popular fandom tropes each chapter will be a different trope.The pairings, fandoms and ratings will vary wildly, please see tags and contents page for more info.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday, Levi & Erwin Smith, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Mikasa Ackerman & Levi, Mikasa Ackerman/Sasha Blouse, Paris Geller/Rory Gilmore, Sansa Stark/Brienne of Tarth, Sasha Blouse & Connie Springer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Contents Page

Inspired by a tumblr post with the A-Z of various fanfic tropes. Challenge to myself is to write something for each one, aiming for at least one a week.

Pairings, fandoms and ratings will vary. And I’ll update the contents page for this as I go.

  1. Almost Kiss - Sansa/Brienne. Rating: T
  2. Bed Sharing - Rory/Paris. Rating: T
  3. Coffee Shop AU - Levi & Erwin. Eren is there too. Many other characters get a mention. Rating: M
  4. Drunken love confession - Endeavour/Joan. Rating: T
  5. Enemies to friends - Mikasa & Levi. Rating: M
  6. Part I: Fake Dating AU - Ginny/Luna, Rating: T
  7. Part II: Growing Old Together - Ginny/Luna, Rating: T
  8. Hurt/Comfort - Very early Mikasa/Sasha, Connie & Sasha, Rating: T
  9. Idiots in Love - Coming Soon 




	2. Almost Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t seen the show past season 1 and read the books years ago. I’m sorry, this is so niche. AU – Sansa is queen of the north after the end of the series and Brienne stayed with her for reasons. Age wise – Sansa is about 27ish and Brienne I’m putting around 40ish. 
> 
> Pretty AU and probably reasonably OOC.

Sansa Stark is Queen of the North (has been for many years now), lone ruler of Winterfell and Brienne’s Lady. Brienne reminds herself of these things often, keeps close to hand the respect and duty that Lady Sansa is owed. So that when other thoughts creep in, that comment upon how tantalising her collarbone looks or how hypnotically her loose hair frames her delicate face, Brienne can banish them.

Brienne has sworn herself as a knight to Sansa’s service. Brienne intends to hold her oaths till her release of service, either by Sansa’s hand or death. A death that is still some time away despite the years, or so Brienne hopes.

What once was duty though has become something else, snuck past her ribs and into her chest. If she is more zealous in her responsibilities no one questions or objects. Indeed if anything it has created a strong kinship between Brienne and others in Sansa’s service, in particular Arya her lady’s sister.

Devotion and duty are a form of love, the founding parts of courtly love. As the bards tell everyone, courtly love is the purest kind of love, demonstrated between a knight and their lady.

There is an ugly side to courtly love; it makes for an interesting story when devotion becomes desire. Brienne knows she is a good knight, recognised and honoured as such but she also knows herself. She knows there’s something hungry inside of her where Sansa is concerned: hungry for her attention, hungry for her smile and hungry for things vastly more sinful.

Brienne will die by her own sword before she dishonours her lady.

Brienne is tested most when they are alone together. These moments (trials) seem so numerous; late evenings by the fire in Sansa’s chambers, leisurely rides, a quiet moment after breakfast or right now, in the Godswood.

It is summer, warm enough that her lady has abandoned her cloak. Her red hair (darker and richer with age but not baring a single grey thread yet) is completely unbound. The locks cascading around her shoulders, her dress a lovely dark grey and she wears no crown. It is the closest to truly relaxed Brienne has seen her in some time.

“Will you sit with me awhile Brienne?” Sansa asks, gesturing on the bench next to her. The tilt of her neck, the soft motion of her hands, something about it is almost unbearable to Brienne.

“One of us must stay alert.”

“Within the Godswood of Winterfell? Our dangers are fewer than they have been, we are safe enough for now, sit with me and enjoy the sunshine good knight.”

It takes a few more sweet (almost teasing) reassurances till Brienne relents. She sits and goes to place her sword between them but Sansa halts the motion by catching her wrist.

“There is no need,” Sansa whispers and Brienne freezes. “Do you know?” Brienne thinks. She wonders if the agonies of her heart have been out on display after all. Brienne had hoped the gesture would appear casual to Sansa, a thing done absent-mindedly, whilst keeping Brienne true. She stares into the face of the woman before her, fearfully awaiting her judgement.

Sansa’s expression is openly calculating, and Brienne has no words for a defence. Her mind grasps through darkness for anyway to conceal what has grown in her heart. Nothing comes to mind.

Dejected Brienne watches as Sansa leans closer, as close as she can manage despite the rigid motion of Brienne’s arm. Then she practically whispers so that Brienne must unbend a little and dip her head to hear the words, “There is no need for this my love. You need not protect my honour from yourself.”

The words inspire delight and horror inside Brienne’s chest and she feels helplessly drawn closer. The words ‘I am yours my lady’ turn repeatedly around in Brienne’s mind.

The moment is abruptly interrupted.

Lady Sansa is taken away by an errand that does not require her knight. Brienne is given leave to compose herself. She is uncertain whether she is relieved or disappointed.


	3. Bed Sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place just after Season 4, Episode 17 Girls in Bikinis, Boys Doin' the Twist.  
> These two are ahhhhhh! This is pre-romantic relationship but they're deep in friendship. 
> 
> Also still looking for a beta so apologies for the mistakes.

There is one of their roommates for the trip passed out on Rory’s bed. Paris’ bed however is completely empty, despite the fact both the pull out couch and roll mat are taken. Rory feels this is incredibly suspicious.

“I can’t believe you’ve got everyone thinking we’re girlfriends. It was one kiss.”

“The people saw a cinematically good kiss and they’re idiots. I don’t know what else you expected.”

Paris’ expression shows that she’s joking but Rory is never forgiving her for this. It’s kind of funny but also makes her feel strange. Rory really hopes Paris won’t start bringing this up again whenever the word ‘Florida’ or ‘Spring break’ comes up.

They tried to have a full Spring break experience and frankly it’s been awful. Rory is relieved that at least there’s no risk of her time here somehow resulting in a full Cady level transformation a la Mean Girls.

“This was so not fetch,” Rory mutters.

“That is not a word Gilmore.”

Rory attempts to shove at her friend (this is so her fault and that was an easy reference set up) but she's also kind of holding her up. It doesn’t really work and instead the two of them stumble a bit.

All Rory wants to do is crawl into bed; her lovely bed that someone else is lying in. Maybe if she’s lying down the world won’t spin so much. Maybe she should throw up, Paris seemed more clear-headed after throwing up on the beach.

Rory realises how terrible a thought process this is.

“Can we leave yet?”

“First thing in the morning Gilmore. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You are my hero. I am holding onto my hero.”

Rory then has to let go of said hero and sit down on Paris’ bed. The spinning isn’t really improved. She puts out her arms either side of her and braces herself up right.

Paris doesn’t bother changing and just gets into bed as she is. Her shin whacks against Rory’s hip but luckily the duvet muffles the sensation.

Rory reaches out to grasp Paris’ leg. Steady and reassuring – not how anyone ought to describe Paris. Rory groans, she must be drunk.

“I think I’ve broken my sobriety. Snapped it into pieces, what if I’m never sober again Paris?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” is the response she thinks she gets from amongst the blankets. Rory pouts and would answer but Paris is shaking her leg.

“Rory, get in the bed and go to sleep.”

“I already told you, you’re too high maintenance for me and not my type,” Rory quips back automatically.

“Rest ashoed – assured – you’re pouting. Pouting like a Disney princess. I know you are you. So just lie down and go to sleep and then we’ll go home tomorrow. I’ll save any more lesbian experimentation for when I’m single and sober.”

Rory groans and then any resistance crumbles. She collapses back into the bed. It’s blissfully comfy, the pillows, the duvet; Paris is so soft sometimes even when she’s mean.

“Are you muttering about me being a pillow?”

“No – sleep.”

“If I was high maintenance you know I’d insist you snuggle me.”

“No talking, only sleeping. We’re both the Disney princesses, then you can be the Prince in the morning and sort us a ride home.”

“Is that permission to kiss you in the morning? I’m still after feedback.”

Rory groans, rolls over (bad idea) and then once the world settles from its dizzy spell she snuggles down to sleep.

In the morning her head hurts and she feels very sick but there’s something nice about waking up next to Paris’ deep breathing.

Highly-strung Paris is all loose limbed and radiating body heat. Her hairs a mess and one of her hands is almost brushing Rory’s shoulder. As though during the night Paris had to reach out and make sure Rory was still there. She’s hard work but she’s argued a way into Rory’s life and set up shop for good now. She’s a good friend, a weird friend but a good friend. She can love Paris without it being a gay thing.

Rory then attempts to move and regrets it immediately. Hangovers are the worst. They don’t leave immediately due to them both throwing up and some cobbled together aftercare attempts.

It’s honestly grim. The mac and cheese they eat though, Rory will swear forever is the best mac and cheese she’s ever had.


	4. Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee Shop AU - Attack on Titan style  
> Only seen the show (which I recently binged again) so characterisation comes from that :D 
> 
> The rating went up for this chapter mainly due to Levi’s excessive swearing. Although there’s a mild reference to PTSD, injuries it’s implied are obtained through combat and Eren has anger issues as a result of family issues. These last three are not detailed at all.

When ex-Commander Erwin Smith informed ex-Captain Levi Ackerman that he was sinking what little money he’d put by, having been honourable discharged from the military, into a bakery and coffee shop; Levi thought he’d finally lost it. Levi to this day is not entirely convinced that Erwin didn’t lose his brain along with his right arm. Although the ex-Captain is self aware enough to realise that since he works in said coffee shop, his own sanity is also possibly questionable. 

Erwin arranged it this way though of course. It was all Levi, don’t you want to come and see the shop I bought. Which was of course a fucking dump at the time. Levi couldn’t leave Erwin to clean everything himself. Or buy everything himself. Or try to run the business himself. Or even make the coffee and tea himself.

So Levi is a barista now. 

And Erwin is a surprisingly good baker. 

Their days involve baking, prepping, cleaning, ordering, finances (that is Erwin’s job and Erwin’s alone) and customer management. They both live in the flat above the shop together and their nights involve more cooking and socialising in some form or other. 

Erwin is still as charming as ever so Levi finds himself in all sorts of activities he never would have participated in alone. When they’d moved back to Levi’s hometown by the sea, Erwin had said they really needed to connect with the civilians here, which includes Levi’s family, as well as people from the military base up the road.

The military base that Hanji, now rocking a new eye patch like some demented pirate, has a new research job at. She visits most weekends and normally drags various old squad members with her if she can. She seems happy as far as Levi can tell. He’s glad she hasn’t disappeared. He can’t imagine a life where she’s not there annoying him on the regular. 

It’s a surreal way of leaving but not leaving. Commander Pixis, also stationed at said military base, seems to take great delight in visiting regularly as clockwork every Tuesday and Saturday for his coffee break, that he definitely (not even subtly) spikes with something. 

Someone is going to take him to task about his drinking. Levi can’t believe he’s thinking about Commander Pixis of all people whilst getting the shop ready at 7 am. It is true though that his whole Ulysses S. Grant thing really needs to stop now before it becomes a real problem. Erwin had mentioned it to Levi with concern, a knife-edge that he could drop off if people didn’t keep coaxing him back from it. Levi is definitely going to say something this – wait that’s exactly what Erwin was setting him up to do. 

This realisation causes Levi to smack down his cup of tea. 

“Son of a bitch.”

Levi is going to actually break Erwin’s leg this time. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised by the ways that Erwin just moves him into place. Couldn’t Erwin talk with Pixis? How on Earth is Levi a good choice here? Levi is going to do anyway but honestly.

“Levi – what?” Eren, Levi’s sister’s brattly little friend, appears from out the back carrying the baked goods to go into the display cabinet. 

“Why’d you -”

“It’s nothing.”

Eren stares at him dubiously. Levi had been finishing up his breakfast and Eren will take a break in a minute once he’s wiped down the table surfaces. 

“Kid it’s nothing.”

Eren glares at him for the kid comment. Levi really shouldn’t enjoy winding him up so much. But credit where credit’s due he doesn’t immediately start yelling about how he’s not a child. That’s growth. 

Instead he just glares, clearly takes a deep breath and continues getting the shop ready. He’s been helping out for the past month or so. 

Mikasa’s friend has some angry issues as a result of other issues. Levi wasn’t going to leave that situation to fester for long after Mikasa alluded to it. 

Levi gets it, life has been unfair to him and whereas the Ackerman trait seems to run cold other people – well they go a different way. Having a job gives him some other things to focus on; he’s got some good support at school and has passing grades. Erwin’s done what he can to get the proper people involved in the family situation. As far as Levi is concerned it’s what decent people with the means to help would have done, even putting aside how Eren is one of Mikasa’s closest friends. He could do without the hero-worshipping bits though but that’s a work in progress. 

Additional bonus for their business though, Eren working here means that all their friends frequently visit the shop. Levi is proud he remembers most of their names. Erwin of course also knows their ages, allergies, interests, hopes and fucking dreams and who all their parents are. He’s useful like that. 

Really, Levi thinks as he finishes his breakfast and starts clearing everything away, it’s not a bad life. He could do with a few less nightmares and the therapy’s a hard slog for the PTSD but it’s good. 

He barely knew his sister before, his mum remarrying and their massive age difference saw to that. Being back here and having the time to get to know the quiet serious 16 year old she’s become is – ugh Erwin was right – it was a fucking gift. They can manage actual conversations and even hang out sometimes. 

Levi starts doing the final bits of prepping whilst Eren greedily digs into the baked goods that constitute his breakfast. God, teenagers and the amount they eat.

Erwin appears at this point and joins Eren. Levi is glad he’s been around to make sure that Erwin by contrast keeps eating. He’s gotten softer now; the muscle definition was always going to go once their routines stopped but there was that whole not really eating thing that Levi was not going to accept.

He looks healthy, more relaxed, his blue eyes brighter. Levi can’t believe his life that he’s just standing here staring fondly at his best friend and his sister’s friend at half 7 on a Wednesday morning. The content feeling in his chest though, has swelled so much he thinks he might burst with it. 

It’s not what he expected his life to turn out like but they’re making this work somehow. That counts for something.


	5. Drunken love confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Endeavour and Joan one had to turn up at some point. Set after season 6 but the timeline isn't super important. Honestly though after I wrote it I thought they were probably the wrong pair for this prompt. Am not sure happy with this as I think it comes off rather OOC. If you're here for this pairing I would recommend my other fic for these two as opposed to this one. Tis here though! Am keeping to my challenge :)

Morse is drinking alone in a pub. Joan knows this is a step up from him drinking alone at home which, as she understands from dad, is a habit of his. However the trout is bustling place at the best of times and on this Friday night almost close to heaving. It’s not the sort of place to go for a solitary drink. 

This is the first piece of evidence, Joan thinks, that he’s meeting a woman here. The second piece is that Morse keeps regularly scanning the place with his penetrating blue-eyed stare, but luckily Joan’s presence is hidden in her group of friends. Just another group lost in a crowd of people around the pub. 

Or at least Joan’s assuming she’s somewhat hidden since they’ve never caught each others eye despite her staring so often in his direction. She’d attempted subtlety initially but she can’t quite help herself. 

Morse is clearly lost in his misery as usual, the mood so obvious to everyone else that there’s basically a bubble of space between him and all the other patrons. 

There’s a vicious twist inside of her that feels pleased his irritability gets exactly what it deserves. 

The rest of her, the majority in fact, feels sorry for him. He’s always had this hopeful bright gleam about him that’s only mostly covered by gloom. It leaves her with an urge to do something kind. 

This must be both his attraction and his repulsion for women, Joan thinks. She wants to go over there, take his hands and drag him over here. Into the noise and bustle and brightness. Let the sadness wash away under careful warm attention. 

Like if she digs into him she’ll draw out the better parts. Which is – she doesn’t know what to do with that. Joan knows she can’t make him into something else, anymore than he could have made her into someone he could save either. 

It’s a lot to expect of each other. 

“Joan what – have you been listening to me at all?”

Her friend Helen shakes Joan out of her thought process. Embarrassed Joan apologies, Helen smiles softly at her then glances back over the object of her interest. 

“Cute I suppose -”

“Dad’s bagman.”

The sharpness of her tone probably makes the subject more appealing rather than less and Joan realises her mistake as a light dawns in Helen’s face. 

“No I’m not talking about this.”

“Sweetie is sounds like you need too. That or you should go and talk to him. All alone and clearly grumpy.”

Joan glances back up and Morse’s eyes meet her hers. There’s a flash of panic and then hurriedly he looks away to the seat across from him. Which is empty.

Oh sod this for a game of soldiers, Joan thinks to herself. She goes and gets another drink determined to ignore Morse. He also gets another drink at the other side of the bar. They don’t look at each other. Of course it takes ages but she gets served first. 

Once Joan has moved out from the bar she debates heading back to her group of friends. She wants to be kind but there’s more there. There’s always been more there. She glances up at the ceiling. Takes a deep breath. Then follows him back to his seat. 

“Joan -”

“Are you waiting for someone?”

He looks surprised and then promptly knocks over the pint he’s just bought. He curses and his face is flushed. 

Lord he’s fairly well gone, Joan realises. 

“Can you stand alright?”

“I can stand Joan. I’m not that far gone. I’m – I was expecting company,” he sighs then adds, “I suppose you’re not surprised I’ve been stood up.”

It’s awful to hear him say that and with those words the strange angry feeling sitting inside of her basically evaporates. She knows impulse decisions are dangerous. She’s learnt from bitter experience. But Joan does trust her gut and this – this is ridiculous. They can’t keep doing what they’re doing and it turns out walking away is unbearable. 

So that’s that then. She puts down her drink. 

“It’s a lovely night – let me walk you home?”

Joan informs her friends of her departure, saying she’s seeing an old friend home. Morse puts up something of a protest about ruining her night but she charges through that. 

“You won’t change my mind about taking you home.”

She admits she enjoys his expression to that comment although she’d meant it perfectly innocently. He does sway a little on the walk and Joan rather determinedly takes his arm to help with his balance. 

It’s still relatively light out and strolling along Joan asks about his week. It’s a little stilted really. Neither of them is at their best. But his presence is warm and real and Joan’s made up her mind. She finds herself distracted by his cheekbones and the last of the light catching his hair. 

It’s a short walk and somehow she even makes him laugh. It’s short and sharp and he seems almost surprised by it. 

They stop for chips on the way as he tells her about the house he bought. The finding of said house is suitably Morse morbid of course; also oddly poetic though which is just as typical. 

There’s a brief struggle over who gets the chips but she wins that fight, possibly because he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. They eat on the move. Trading conversation, lighter and softer than they’ve ever really managed. 

I can do this, Joan thinks. This, this could be easier than all the agonising over doing it had been. 

She intends to leave things, just as they are when they arrive back at his place. She smiles up at him as she opens the door. Considers if she ought to go for a hug, enjoying the warmth of his smile whilst he stands in his doorway. 

“I fell in love with you the moment you opened that door.”

Joan stares at him. 

The silence that follows afterwards is somehow shattering. So many other things ripple upwards to the surface. 

“What door?” She asks because she’s an idiot and Morse is apparently being really bold here for once. 

Or not, he’s frozen now. Clearly looking ready to bolt. The panic on his face, he says something about being sorry and looks about ready to frantically shut the door in her face but wavers. 

She puts out a hand onto said door to dissuade him. Gathers herself because as said she’s decided and maybe a little too much wine. 

“I fell in love with you when you walked me home for the first time,” she says. 

She hears him inhale and then he frowns, clearly intent on airing all their grievances in one go. 

“I would have marrie-”

“I needed to sort myself out Morse you couldn’t – I thought you were doing it because you cared about Dad.”

And isn’t this apparently a great big ball of something. Joan groans. 

“Look it’s late, this has been lovely and I’m tired. Can we – can we go for coffee or something to talk about this?”

Morse practically flinches as she says coffee and gods – this is ridiculous. How can it go one minute from practically magical to this messy nonsense?

“Tomorrow?” Though is all he says. 

Joan nods, tired, frustrated and relieved. She can gather enough thoughts for that. She’s not going to run away from this. Decision made. 

“Goodnight Morse. Call me tomorrow.”

She kiss his cheek goodnight before he can react and the soft smile she gets as a reward returns the almost giddy feeling of earlier. She’ll kiss him tomorrow, she thinks happily walking home. They’ll have to talk the rest of it out but she’ll kiss him properly tomorrow for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if you have read my other Joan and Endeavour fic - SAME HELEN :D


	6. Enemies to Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok! Realise this is a little behind on my releasing one a week plan but struggled a bit this week because of you know *gestures at everything* Also I didn’t really obey the prompt as really with these two it’s more Mikasa hates him for Eren reasons (which are often silly Eren reasons) and he’s more like ugh another brat I have to deal with. I struggle to see these two as lovers for loads of reasons but I had this scene that I couldn't get out of my head.  
> SO HAVE THAT INSTEAD.
> 
> Have only seen the show, am completely clueless regarding the manga and this is post season 3 so pretty spoilery.

Mikasa had heard of Captain Levi before the court hearing. Humanities Strongest was precisely the sort of person Eren knew a lot about so that meant she did too. However the first time she sees him do anything (other than ride a horse) is at Eren’s court marshal.

She swears then and there that the pipsqueak will pay for the beating he gives Eren. It’s the same kind of promise she made to herself to follow Eren wherever he goes.

Things change so quickly though. Her feelings about the man she’s quietly watching right now are very different than what they were. The successful missions to saves Eren life meant she could view him as an ally. They’ve acquired other dangerous mutual enemies. There’s also the distant Ackerman relation – so minor in the grand scheme of things – which gives her a sense of kinship with him whether she likes it or not.

Also now she knows him better, she can see their similarities. She completely understands the desire to brutally and efficiently wreck punching bags and other training equipment. It’s why she came to the training late this evening as well.

Although the methodical clean up of anything damaged is probably unique to Levi, she thinks. Also Commander Hange’s presence is an interesting one. She seems content to sit, drink and provide some kind of rambling commentary.

“You boxed right?” Hange muses aloud, possibly to herself possibly to Levi.

They don’t know Mikasa is there yet. She’d hung back on realising the training room wasn’t empty. She’s supposed to be joining her friends soon. Queen Historia had organised a gathering involving food and booze. Mikasa had planned to burn off some of her restless energy before heading there.

There’s to many thoughts in her head about everything that’s happened. Armin, Erwin, the titans origin and the world outside, its all there bundled together. She can only take the knowledge in pieces, sideways on. A frontal assault would be too much so she lets her mind drift back into the moment.

In this moment she’s watching Levi break things and she wants to do the same thing. His motivations and methods sometimes are so familiar and it sits oddly in stomach. The thought “Am I glimpsing my future?” passes through Mikasa’s mind.

“PUNCH IT! YEAH-” there’s a gasp as Hange sways a bit to far forward and Levi stops his assault.

“Alright three eyes?”

“Fuck – yeah just. Just you started wondering what you’d look like as a titan yet?”

“That is one of the most fucked up things you’ve ever said. And you spent months trying to determine if titans had different blood types.”

“Well they must do if we do.”

From Mikasa’s vantage point she see Levi smile of all things. There’s something so fond and exasperated in the way he looks at her then.

“I think that knowledge would have broken Erwin,” Hange continues. Levi doesn’t say anything to that but as he looks away he glances in the direction of the shadows that Mikasa has been lurking in.

Their eyes catch and there’s no hiding now.

“After something cadet?”

Hange turns to view her and it strikes Mikasa that there’s basically no senior scout regiment left. These two and perhaps a handful of others but the majority are dead.

In her minds eye Mikasa sees there’s a space in this room around the two of them where the fallen belong. Erwin’s name is the first that comes to mind. Would he and Levi be fighting whilst Hange watched and cheered? She casts her mind back for the others; she knew so few of their names. Would they have been here too? Given the chance is this something they would have done to unwind?

Mikasa can see how much she’s intruding and yet – yet she can’t leave without doing something. Offering something. Her friends and comrades are still alive and she can go join them soon. She has no comforting words (they’re probably useless anyway) so instead she asks, “Want to spar?”

Mikasa used to think that if anything happened to Eren she’d kill everyone responsible and then herself. Recalling the swords she’d drawn on Armin’s behalf though, it turns out that the list of people she’s willing to kill and live for is longer than she thought.

Perhaps that’s not a bad thing.

Hange lets out a laugh and claps her hands together, “Now this is going to be interesting.”

Levi stares at Hange, his entire body tense. Then with a sigh he turns back to face her, “Thanks Ackerman but -”

“I’ll put up more of a fight than the punching bags.”

She’s wanted to fight him for sometime but right now it’s less about revenge or rage and more about just clearing the air. They are both from the Ackerman clan and they can just about trust each other. Erwin is dead and Armin is alive and for that she thinks she might be able to forgive him for beating up Eren.

“Fight. Fight. Fight. FIGHT!” Hange yells dramatically as she bashes the bottle upon the ground. It’s a shift from her previous sober mood and Mikasa is willing to bet that’s the alcohol talking.

Levi gives the bare hint of a nod. Mikasa can’t help smiling at that. She strips off her jacket and rolls up her sleeves.

“You demanding any particular rules here goggles?”

“You fucking bet I am shorty. First person pinned wins! If anyone has a good chance of punching him it’s you Mikasa -”

“Are you actually encouraging a subordinate to beat me to a pulp shit for brains?”

“It’s a friendly sparring contest. Probably less expensive than you wrecking everything – Erwin used to hate that. Moblit would totally bet with me now. There’s no one to bet with me…”

“Are you drunk too?” Mikasa asks him because she’s drawing a line somewhere and there’s nothing she can say to Hange’s sadness. Levi scoffs and tells her to get ready. They square off against each other to Hange’s cheering.

Levi goes on the offensive first and he’s quick, quick and strong. She can keep up though and has a better reach (due to her height) but he’s ready for that.

The fight starts with them just trading hits, short and sharp. It’s practically a warm up, a mutual test of each other’s responses. There’s something almost soothing about it. Mikasa’s blood is pumping and she feels her senses sharpen. There’s nothing but the current moment. She’s absorbed in it. Even when he lands a vicious blow against her ribs she mostly feels a sense of satisfaction.

Things take a turn when she goes for a stronger kick and manages to off balance him. She seizes the opening and goes for a takedown.

Unfortunately he gets a hold of her and down they both go. The struggle is brief and he is definitely going to pin her on her back if she’s doesn’t come up with something -

“I used to hate you,” she confesses to him. She’s close enough and says the words softly enough only he hears. It’s easy to confess that and to add, “Not anymore. I’m sorry.”

She practically feels his surprised intake and takes advantage of it. She almost gets him into an arm lock before his sinks his teeth into her forearm.

“WAIT DID YOU BITE HER? Should I foul that? Don’t make me call this match off!”

They ignore her. They’re both panting now, back on their feet and a short distance apart. Round two, Mikasa thinks to herself. She knows she’s smiling but considering Levi is too she’s not going to attempt to smoother it.

When they close in again there’s something more brutal about it. It’s lost the soft edges of their first round and Mikasa’s knows distantly that’s she going to ache after this and it’s going to be worth it.

She makes him suffer for it but this time he pins her face first into the ground, arm behind her back.

“And that’s a wrap folks! That was pretty exciting though might have to get you both to do that again. Someone could sell tickets.”

Levi groans as he lets Mikasa up. Then winces slightly as he straightens, breathing just as heavily as she is. Levi reaches down to offer he a hand up whilst he says to Hange, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Mikasa smiles at him and something warm and satisfying blooms in her stomach as he smiles back at her.

“We good Cadet?” He asks, as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

She nods and then adds to both of them, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Levi says as Hange exclaims some variation of sorry for what.

“I’m sorry that you’ve had to suffer like this.” She wants to add a lot more and be more specific about what she exactly means. The words won’t come though.

“Well that’s a pile of crap,” Levi huffs and Hange throws her bottle against the floor with a sickening crack.

“I will make you clean that up later,” Levi hisses.

“Ha! You can try, I’m in charge of you now Levi. I’M THE COMMANDER! I also might throw up in a minute but that’s beside the point. Listen Mikasa – the point is – there are a lot of points. There’s so much I know and don’t know and you know what else? There is a lot to do. I have plans and you know what we are going to deal with it. A lot to see through and first thing tomorrow I have plans. MANY plans – oh ok getting up is a bit harder than I expected.”

Mikasa sees Levi sigh watching Hange attempt to get up again. He goes to get her up before levelling a look at Mikasa.

“It’s fucked up kid. The choices have been made and this mess of a person is right. There’s more to do, more enemies to fight and a world to make better for whatever the hell we actually are. Go enjoy the rest of your evening. When I can afford the bruises we’ll have to have a rematch.”

They part that night on the best terms they ever have.

Mikasa takes the advice and goes to join the friends she still has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll be back to posting Tuesday-ish  
> Have a good weekend everyone :D 
> 
> Next week Fake Dating AU!


	7. Part I: Fake Dating AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny/Luna Fake dating AU! 
> 
> I've left the actual years all a bit vague but it's definitely post the 7th book and our mains are in their mid 20s ish.
> 
> This is a part I! Part II - Growing Old Together will be out next week :D 
> 
> Warnings for mentions of divorce. Also fluff - like a lot of fluff. Also it's Christmas time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. I know this a bit of a strange fic overall so I really appreciate everyone engaging with it as you have been. Am still aiming for one a week and the next chapter is mostly complete so that'll be up on Tuesday next week. 
> 
> Stay safe!

It was beginning to snow as Luna and Ginny apparated just outside the grounds of the Burrow. Like they’d rehearsed Luna reaches out and takes Ginny’s hand in hers. Ginny has the holdall containing the majority of their joint luggage. The remainder and the Christmas presents Luna has in her bright purple fuzzy rucksack. It matches her bright purple knitted gloves.

Luna gives Ginny’s gloved hand a squeeze, “Easy peasy practice squeezey!”

Ginny feels a flush of embarrassment recalling their couple practicing sessions. They had held hands whilst walking down the street, sat practically on top of each other, put their arms around each other’s lower backs and even styled each other’s hair.

Ginny was currently sporting Luna’s attempt at a French plait. She actually kind of liked the wooden beads Luna added but was pleased she’d resisted the buttons.

In some ways it wasn’t that much of a change. Living together they knew each other pretty well but the up in intimacy had been an adjustment. Luna’s practice idea had been a good one. Ginny had vetoed kissing each other on the lips though. _I wouldn’t do that in front of my parents anyway_ , Ginny had declared.

Ginny can definitely admire the creativity that Luna has. When presented with this obstacle Luna had adapted. Forehead kisses, gentle cheeks kisses and feather light touches of her lips to the back of Ginny’s hand. Ginny is certain the stirring it causes in her stomach is due to admiration.

Ginny pushes away any further thoughts along those lines. She’s an adult. They’re both adult. They’re best friends and roommates. They can pretend to be a couple at the Weasley’s family Christmas without it being weird.

Ginny can’t believe she’s doing this.

“Are you ready?” Luna asks softly. They’ve been standing still to long. There’s no wind and snow is still only lightly falling, the snowflakes swirl a little upon encountering their breath.

“Come on,” Ginny thinks to herself feeling her jaw clench, “you’ve done much harder things than this. This isn’t the battle of Hogwarts; it’s not even the world cup. You’re a Gryffindor! Be bold.”

These thoughts don’t help the heavy feeling in her legs. Instead Ginny attempts a big calming breath as she looks at Luna. Luna her friend, who is standing there in a outfit that boldly mixes purple gloves, a dark blue beanie hat, a brown coat and vibrant red trousers. Ginny had styled her hair into a neat bun underneath the beanie hat.

Ginny feels the edges of panic. She's worried she won’t be able to go through with this mad scheme and has dragged Luna here for nothing.

“There’s no rush you know,” Luna says clearly picking up on something in her face.

“The snow falling is beautiful. We can wait till your ready.”

Ginny has to swallow tightly around the sudden lump in her throat. Harry wouldn’t have waited like this. 

“Ok, I’m ready.”

They head on towards the house, hand in hand and side by side.

* * *

They are greeted at the door by Ginny’s mother. She enfolds them both into a great big warm hug immediately.

“Hello sweet hearts.”

Molly Weasley smells of home, of love and of something delicious being cooked in the kitchen. Whilst at least some of this current silly situation is her mother’s fault it doesn’t change that Ginny loves her. It just makes things a bit difficult.

Her mum does try as well. The fact that Ginny was bringing home a woman had been a bit of an issue, on top of the other much bigger issues, the fact it was _Luna_ though…

Her mother likes Luna. Luna can come off as a little strange but she’s sweet, gentle, and motherless. Luna responds easily to kindness. Exactly the sort of thing Molly Weasley can’t resist.

 _You know I’ve always liked Luna,_ Ginny remembers her mum saying, _she is always welcome for Christmas. I suppose at least it is Luna and not another Fleur. Don’t look at me like that – I love the dear but I can only handle one of them._

* * *

Inside the Burrow is surprisingly quiet. The Christmas decorations are up and only Percy smiles at them from the kitchen. He finishes up with the parsnips before coming forward to greet them properly.

“Right I’ve put you two ladies in your old room Ginny. Almost put Hermione in there with you, strange where the time goes. Feels like only yesterday when none of your were old enough to be married.”

“Our experience of time is always fluctuating,” Luna agrees. They add their presents under the tree and then Ginny’s mother descends into full Christmas hostess mode.

Ginny finds herself put to work in the kitchen with Percy whilst Luna and her mother go to put away their things. Molly says she’ll give Luna a tour, which her two children know is code for I’ll ask some structured ‘getting to know my child’s partner better’ questions. Ginny is confidant that Luna will be fine.

The kitchen quietens down a little and Percy mutters, “George and Charlie are here. They and Dad have ‘gone out for last minute supplies’. It’s only me that got kitchen duty.”

“She only trusts us in the kitchen,” Ginny teases, although nobody is trusted to use their wands in mum’s kitchen.

“When are Bill, Fleur and the kids getting here?” Ginny asks. It’s good to be home. She loves all her brothers, all in their own ways of course.

The two of them chat for a bit and Percy shows growth by not bringing up Harry and only asking light questions relating to Luna. They aren’t alone for long though. The rest of the family start filtering in. After each warm greeting everyone is then put to work in some variation or another. It’s going to be a busy bustling three days in the house.

Ginny doesn’t mean to but she clings rather tightly to George when he arrives. She has told all of brothers at some point or another that they’re her favourite. She wouldn’t say now that George is but there’s a closeness here that’s grown over the years. As though they both needed to rely on each other more in a way she’s never had with the others.

Ron arrives last, with Hermione and Ginny’s ex husband Harry. It plays out like everyone has rehearsed it save for Ginny herself.

The greeting between the five of them is brief and no hugs are exchanged. She smiles at Harry and Luna’s hand rests quietly and reassuringly on her hip during the whole exchange. Ginny feels her skin practically burn under the touch.

The whole thing together is sort of awful but it’s over in minutes.

The trio are moved away and on the evening the goes. Luna’s hand doesn’t move and that’s definitely not awful.

Finally the food is ready, drinks are passed around, the table set and the children settled. Harry and Ginny are seated as far a part as possible.

Ginny silently thanks her mother for the seating arrangement. Her nerves take awhile to settle though and she ends up drinking her wine much to fast. Luna silently fills up her cup whilst Ginny is distracted in conversation. It’s a small gesture that strikes something deep inside Ginny.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Ginny thinks to herself.

* * *

Ginny knows getting married at 18 was a rash decision but at the time it had seemed like a perfect one. They’d been in love. Ginny also knows now that in a way she was a goal for Harry to come back too. It only took another 4 years for her to realise how much she hated that. Although everyone had assumed it was only to do with the miscarriage.

Ginny tucks into the food and does her best to stop thinking. She presses her thigh up against Luna's who briefly squeezes the top of Ginny’s knee under the table. Ginny could get used to this.

They smile and Ginny happily talks with Bill and Fleur whilst Luna entertains their eldest child. Everything is delicious and the atmosphere is gloriously warm. As the alcohol takes the edges of her senses Ginny feels like she can finally relax.

Later in the evening Ginny and Luna are seated together on the same chair. Luna had whispered the word practice a few times in Ginny’s ear as they had settled.

They’re close to the fire place and contently watching Ron, George and Charlie play exploding snap. When Luna’s rests her head utterly unselfconsciously upon Ginny’s shoulder.

A sudden sensation dances down Ginny’s spine at the contact, at the intimacy. She’s vividly aware that she could tilt her head and inhale the scent of Luna’s hair, which is still all tied up in a (slightly messier) bun.

“Am I going mad?” Ginny thinks, “This isn’t supposed to be how this goes. This is meant to just be a friend thing. Luna’s here as your friend to support you and remind you it wasn’t a mistake to walk out on the famous Harry Potter.”

The famous Harry Potter who is still invited to family events despite the fact he’s Ginny’s ex husband.

He’s sitting across from the two of them, him and Hermione are talking together but Ginny has no idea about what, she can’t hear them over the noise of the room. He does every now and then keep glancing casually her way.

Anger pricks Ginny’s insides. This is her home and she knows it’s petty but a part of her feels it’s so unfair that she has to share it like this. Had to recruit outside assistance to cope with a family Christmas.

Ginny has felt before like she was some kind of consolation prize. That in the end Harry only wanted to be a Weasley and she was just the easiest option to making that a reality. It would have been even easier if Ron had been a girl, she thinks bitterly.

When she’s angry she can’t sit still. Ginny nudges at Luna.

“I need to go for a walk.”

And Luna, because she is as perfect today as she was two years ago when Ginny turned up in tears on her doorstep, let’s her get up. She kisses Ginny lightly on the cheek before she goes though and whispers “don’t forget your coat.”

Ginny’s skin tingles from the contact, she inhales sharply and then flees in embarrassment. Escaping before anyone can say anything.


	8. Part II: Growing Old Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finished it early! 
> 
> Have the chapter! 
> 
> WARNINGS FOR FLUFF! 
> 
> Stay safe everyone

Ginny marches around the house three times before she can get her heart rate to calm down and her mind to stop buzzing. The snow has stopped falling but it’s settles into a wonderful blanket that crunches satisfying under her feet.

Ginny stares thoughtfully at the ground and then at her breathe which mists in front of her face.

She’s taking advantage of Luna’s kindness she’s knows that. It was just the idea of coming here and seeing Harry again in front of everyone had felt like to much. It makes Ginny wish that Ron had been a girl – or gay or that the two of them had somehow gotten together. Harry could then still be a part of the family like every clearly wanted him to, without her having to be the link.

It’s a silly thought and it’s also freezing. Ginny had grabbed her coat at Luna's suggestion but it's only just helping. 

Now that she’s stood still for long enough the cold night air is starting to seep into her bones. Sighing she gathers her arms about herself and heads back towards the house. She’s surprised no one came to hunt her down.

Upon arriving back at the house she sees George sitting upon the step awaiting her return. He waves cheerfully at before clambering to his feet. He’s wrapped up for the event and had clearly been settling in to wait for a bit. Surprised she approaches him.

“You didn’t have to wait for me like this.”

“What are favourite big brothers for?” He teases and then continues, “Luna told everyone you needed to gather yourself and that we should let you.”

Ginny’s eyebrows rise up her face before she can help it.

“And they all listened to her?”

“Well she stood in front of the door while she said it. Bill reasoned we could go look for you before everyone went to sleep and you’re lucky mum missed you walking out. Harry look at you funny?”

She laughs before she can help it. George grins but he doesn’t say anything else and his gaze is expectant. Ginny doesn’t have anything to say though and no idea what he’s waiting for.

After a moment she begins, “Luna’s right, I just needed to calm down. Harry’s fine. This is fine. I know he’s important to everyone here and this’ll get easier. Luna’s been great about it.”

Ginny doesn’t know what else she can add to that really. It about sums things up. George gives her a hug and says, “It’s not been so bad. If Mum and Fleur can get along then I think we can make this work.”

Ginny doesn’t have a favourite brother but George is really darn close.

“It’s good Luna understands too. You should be with someone who understands you.” George says to her before they’re absorbed back inside.

Ginny feels an odd twist at the idea that they’ve managed to fool him. She’s pleased but it’s twinned with other guilty feelings. It was surprisingly easy to fool everyone. She settles back onto the chair with Luna.

* * *

“We should paint your room,” Luna tells her the following autumn. Ginny has been living in Luna’s spare room for close to three years now.

Ginny had originally planned that her and Luna would ‘break-up’ sometime after Christmas. However to make it believable Ginny realised she’d have to move out.

Luna said if Ginny was moving then couldn’t she delay it a little till they could have one last picnic down by the river and maybe enjoy a springtime walk. Work had started intruding during this of course and then summer had happened and Luna had needed help with the garden and the time had disappeared. 

In this moment Ginny has to admit to herself she’s probably only going to move out of this house (Luna had inherited it from her late father) when Luna asks her too. She’s put her roots down now. Ginny swallows around the lump in her throat and clutches her mug of tea close.

She stares at Luna across the breakfast table, Luna in her lovely pink dress and celery earrings with her long blond hair unbound, there’s something so irresistible and soft about the setting. The very moment in the air speaks of home.

Ginny accepts that she’s in love rather quietly then. She agrees to help paint the room.

* * *

Ginny often goes away for stretches of time for her Quidditch matches. Luna started lining up her naturalist trips with Ginny’s tours so that ‘no one was alone for to long in the house.’

The first time when Luna is travelling in the same country that Ginny is playing in is a happy accident. She gets Luna into the teams ‘partners’ box.

It’s not the world cup and her family have come to numerous other events so she doesn’t feel guilt about spoiling Luna as best she can with the glitzy parts of the event.

Once she starts though she doesn’t really know how to stop. It’s easy to start saying partner instead of friend to everyone else, even people who definitely won’t interact with her family.

Luna doesn’t protest. In fact she asks if she can bring Ginny along to her next naturalist conference. She wants to share her world too. It’s a different experience but a fun one. Luna introduces Ginny as her partner there too.

It feels like a secret that they’re telling the whole world. Ginny’s debates asking but she’s so happy and the idea of bursting this bubble is unbearable. They travel and they work and they come back home together. Ginny has to install a few rules about what animals are allowed where in the house.

They reach for each other’s hands whenever they think they might need it.

This stage of things goes on for a while longer.

* * *

They make dinner late one summers day and practically fall asleep in the garden under the stars. It’s so perfect that something in Ginny’s chest hurts.

Ginny means to only wake Luna and shuffle them off to bed. Instead though they end up staring at one another.

“Are you ready to kiss me on the mouth yet?” Luna asks. So of course Ginny has too. Luna melts into the kiss. Her hands press with surety into Ginny’s lower back.

When they draw apart she simply smiles and says, “I’m so sleepy. Kiss me more tomorrow.”

Ginny complies with her wishes.

* * *

If asked Ginny would say it took work but it was easy. Ginny can’t believe sometimes that Luna is her normal.

The years slip away and Ginny has long since moved into the main room with Luna in their house in the countryside.

They talk of children but they’re both so often away that it’s not feasible just yet. They happily look after the children of others in their circle though.

“We need to practice, see if this works for us.” Luna tells her and Ginny couldn’t agree amore. When they decide their own children isn’t quite what they want they fill the house with family in other ways.

There are memories built, the beginnings of wrinkles form around their eyes and silver starts to creep into Ginny’s hair.

One quiet lazy evening Ginny decides to ask Luna something. There are flowers on the table, two mugs of tea and hand in hand they are watching the sunset.

“When did you know you loved me?”

Ginny loves the smiles that Luna gives her. How it spreads across her face and the twinkle that arises in her eyes.

“A few days after you moved in. The house had been so quiet without my father. You made everything better and I wanted to make you happy for as long as you were here. I also never wanted you to leave.”

Ginny feels embarrassed in the face of this devotion.

“It took me a little longer.”

“I know.”

Luna gives Ginny’s hand a reassuring squeeze; “You loved someone else at the time. I knew that.”

“I love you now,” Ginny rushes out. Luna knows of course, it’s not the first time she’s said this, but it feels vital to Ginny that Luna knows. That Luna knows that Ginny has chosen this and chosen her.

Luna smiles and raises the back of Ginny’s hand her lips. Then adds another sweet kiss to Ginny’s forehead, her cheek and then her lips.


	9. Hurt/Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post Season 3, Sasha is recovering and Connie and Mikasa make an effort to keep her spirits up. Also whilst it’s not relevant I do imagine that this scene takes place in the same Universe as my earlier Mikasa and Levi punch each other story – see Enemies to Friends.

Sasha wakes up from a doze just as Connie arrives to visit her.

“Hey! Sasha you’re awake!” He beams at her, all bright eyed and coiled energy. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, which constitute a simple white shirt and brown trousers. He practically hops over to greet her but stops short of jumping onto the bed.

Sasha’s relieved, she feels incredibly sore. Bed rest doesn’t include vigorous hugs unfortunately. Although she does put up an arm, the burns tingle unpleasantly but bearably at the motion, and carefully squeezes his forearm in greeting.

“Hey Connie,” her throat is dry and words come out a little croaky. The past week she’s mainly slept and as best she can take the water and stew brought to her. She’s lucky really; she escaped the retaking of Shiganshina with bruised ribs, some burns, a few cuts and pulled muscles. She’s gathered the causalities were catastrophic.

“Could you -?” Sasha gestures to the water at her bedside table. Whilst Connie pours her something she shifts her pillows so she can sit up. It’s slow going and takes a few minutes but she manages to settle into something comfortable with Connie’s help. Sasha has questions about the success of the mission. She knows they reached the cellar, knows that there’s a report being put together.

She wants to ask but she fell asleep through Connie’s explanation during his last visit. And she’d been pretty out of it when others of the Levi squad (they’re the Levi squad now and she can barely get used to that) had visited, too many people, too much noise.

It’s just Connie today and whilst she’s still in pain it’s not as distracting as before. Sasha focuses on drinking the water, wetting her dry throat. She carefully puts down the cup and considers asking Connie some of her questions. Connie however has other ideas.

“I have a surprise for you.” He brandishes a bag.

“A surprise?” She asks. His smile is infectious and she finds herself smiling back. He looks like he’s managed some good nights sleep and his head is even freshly shaved. It’s good to see.

Sasha is glad of the single room, honour of being a member of the Levi squad. It means she gets the privacy and quiet for sleep. There’s the regular check ups from the doctor, along with a medic to help with bathroom trips and the guard at the door (orders from the Queen) vets the visitors. It’s the most peaceful stretch of time she’s had for awhile. They’re both healing a bit after everything.

From out of the bag Connie then produces three bright green apples. Her stomach twists at the sight. She knows that were the situation different she’d devour them without a thought, possibly right out of his hand. Sasha trusts her gut responses. They’ve always steered her right and when there’s food she eats. 

She knows from bitter experience that next meals are not always guaranteed. She eats whenever the opportunity is presented. Or she did, right now though her body is mostly just some form of pain. The idea of trying to chew is unpleasant. Her tongue is too thick and heavy in her mouth. She does smile at him though, for trying.

“Thanks Connie, put them on the night stand?” He tells her not to worry and then attempts to juggle with them before doing as she asks. She has to ask to him to stop when her ribs start to hurt from laughing so much.

Connie then settles down to update her with the news of the day. It’s light and easy to follow things. Krista (Sasha hasn’t asked yet if she would prefer to be called Historia) had organised a meal for them. Sasha contentedly listens to his voice and, lulled by the pleasant breeze from the open window, she drifs off again during Connie’s impersonation of Jean’s singing.

* * *

Connie and her are on top a building shoving as many apples as they can frantically into a bag. The apples are stuck in the roof and they need to take as many as they can. They don’t have much time.

The titans are coming. Of course they are.

Eren is yelling at them. They need to be faster and use all the apples they can to stop the onslaught. He may have said something about humanity but Sasha isn’t listening because Mikasa flies overhead with her glorious fancy black wings.

Then Connie is telling her they need to start flying because the building is on fire. But Sasha doesn’t have any wings. She doesn’t have any wings and so she stands there clutching the apples as her friends all fly away. Above her there is a large grinning face of a titan. It reaches out a giant hand to grab her…

* * *

Sasha wakes up. She’s somehow managed to twist in her sleep and is now facing the wall. Her ribs are currently _tenderly_ reminding her that lying on her side is not the best of ideas. Groaning Sasha rolls over onto her back, facing the rest of the room.

Mikasa is by her bed. Sasha doesn’t shriek but she does recoil. And then regrets the motion.

“I’m sorry,” Mikasa says softly, she’s holding herself incredibly still almost as if she doesn’t want to startle her, “I thought you were asleep. I was just going to leave this here for you.”

In Mikasa’s hand is a green apple. She nods at the table, which is holding the three bought by Connie and she says, “I’m adding to your collection.”

Sasha smiles at her weakly and then gives a half nod.

“Not sure I can eat a whole one. That’s not! I mean thank you – it’s just – my stomach isn’t quite right at the moment.”

Right on time it then gives an embarrassing gurgle. It’s still light in the room but the sun is clearly starting to set, so dinner is probably on its way curtsey of the medic. Eyeing the apples Sasha realises that she does actually feel hungry now. She gives an experimental swallow; her mouth doesn’t taste quite as bad as earlier.

“Let me get comfy? I just need to sit up.” Sasha doesn’t want Mikasa to leave just yet. It’s good to see her. The last time she saw Mikasa had been when all the remaining 104th had visited.

They’ve never exactly been close. Until more recently Sasha had thought Mikasa viewed her as nuisance. Inspiring feelings of either fond exasperation or annoyance. Sasha’s pretty sure now though that she's gained Mikasa’s respect and trust.

By contrast Sasha has always thought Mikasa was beautiful, elegant and deadly. She’d felt eager for Mikasa’s attention from their first meeting and having some time alone together now makes Sasha feel a little giddy. She knows she’s not the only one who looks hungrily at Mikasa and that there’s a very long queue of admirers. It’s such a dreadful waste that Mikasa has only ever had eyes for Eren. All this to say Sasha isn’t used to having Mikasa’s undivided attention and she feels rather flustered.

Mikasa breaks the silence, “Would you like to sleep more?”

Frantic to hold on to the moment Sasha bursts out, “Oh no! Please sit. Keep me company for a bit?”

Whilst Sasha has another drink of water Mikasa does sit down in the visitors chair. She takes a knife from her pocket, “I can cut my gift up if you like?”

Sasha’s thrown for a moment, “You mean-? Oh to make to it easier to eat?”

Mikasa nods and there is now that small smile gracing her features. It’s a smile that Sasha has often observed Mikasa bury into the ever-present red scarf around her neck. Right now it’s accompanying civilian clothes, a white shirt, trousers and a dark red cardigan.

“Yes – that – I‘d like that.” Mikasa being kind is – she’s often kind. She’s just not often kind to people who aren’t Armin and Eren. Sasha feels warm again under the attention but she definitely doesn’t want it to stop. Honestly what’s Eren’s problem? Maybe she and Jean should talk about it, Sasha thinks.

These thoughts all flit through her mind as she watches Mikasa carefully cut out the core and then slice up the apple. Sasha lets her thoughts drift away as she observes the graceful motion of Mikasa’s hands. The neat precision of what she does. Sasha reasons to herself that she could die anytime; she’ll indulge a little staring.

Mikasa then holds out an apple slice to Sasha’s face. An image flashes through Sasha’s mind of her leaning forward and seizing it from Mikasa’s fingers with her mouth. She wonders what the reaction would be. Sasha brushing her lips against Mikasa’s fingers.

Her gut says that would not be the best move, mainly because she can’t take the whole slice in her mouth at once. Also it’s a bad idea because spooking or upsetting Mikasa is the last thing she wants to do. So instead Sasha reaches up and wraps her hands around the apple slice, skin brushing against skin.

Practically buzzing from the whole experience Sasha bites into the fruit enjoying the burst of sweetness on her tongue; she licks her fingers and holds out her hand for another one. Mikasa obliges her. As she’s eating the second one Mikasa says, “I’m glad you like it.”

Sasha nods vigorously as she finishes swallowing, “I do! Can’t believe it’s autumn already. You know it feels like Trost was years ago and yet at the same time it’s been what six months? Connie told me my dad was being sent for; I hope he’s doing ok. No idea how I’m going to tell him about any of this though.”

She pauses to eat a third slice. Then Mikasa lets her fill the silence again this time with a half memory of an orchard she saw in full bloom, people working to harvest it. The giddy feeling hasn't faded and Sasha can’t decide whether to blame Mikasa or the apple for that. She eats a forth and fifth slice in one go after talking about the orchard.

For a brief moment Sasha feels a bit more like herself. Like she could eat another whole apple without a problem. Like a proper a person and not just a pile of bruises badly held together.

“Thank you,” Sasha beams at Mikasa before taking the final slice. “I just want to hug you, will have to save it for next time when I’m not in so much pain,” Sasha continues and then gestures at her foods stash, “actually could you cut up another one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh – so I hit the words limit but I want everyone to know that in my mind everyone keeps trying to bring Sasha food as a “We care and don’t want you dead” type thing. Like Jean turns up with a baked potato, Histora as QUEEN gets her some meat. Might work it into something later on in this series. When did these things get so long???? It used to be that 500 words was the best I could do in a sitting.


End file.
